


Oh My God, They Were Roommates

by strangeandwonderfulconcepts



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 10:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17181365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandwonderfulconcepts/pseuds/strangeandwonderfulconcepts
Summary: What it’s like to be roommates with Roger now that you’re a couple.(Part 2 to And They Were Roommates)





	Oh My God, They Were Roommates

The next morning when you woke up in Roger’s bed, it took a moment for you to remember if the night before had been real or a dream. But then Roger’s warm hand squeezed your hip gently and he mumbled something about making eggs and you were very aware that last night was real. He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder and rolled off the mattress. You pushed yourself to your elbows and watched as Roger tugged a pair of loose sweatpants over his narrow hips. Images from the night before flashed in front of your eyes: Tumbling through the front door. Roger’s hands running over your bare skin by the time you reached the bed. There must be a trail of clothes that lead from the front door to your bedroom. Roger’s lips at your neck, his teeth scraping over your collar bone. Your hands tangled in his hair as your name fell off his lips like a prayer.

“You’re staring, love,” Roger laughed softly. You felt your face burn as you realized that you were indeed staring at your half-naked roommate. Who you had slept with last night.

And twice this morning. 

“If I didn’t know any better,” Roger kissed your cheek, “I’d say that you were having very indecent thoughts about me.” 

He winked at you over his shoulder as he headed out to the kitchen. Making a noise that was a mix between a laugh and a sigh, you threw yourself back into the pillows. 

“Let’s go, love. These eggs aren’t going to make themselves,” He called from the kitchen. 

“I don’t even like eggs,” You hollered back.

“Which is why it’s so weird that you’re better at making them. Shake a leg or I’ll come back in there and give you a reason to not be able to walk.”

You were wholly tempted by the offer, but you could already smell the bacon that Roger had evidently begun to cook and it made your stomach growl. So, you found Roger’s t-shirt and your underwear and joined him in the kitchen. He smiled at you and nearly dripped bacon grease on the floor as he bent his head to kiss your cheek.

“You look good in my shirt,” He murmured against your temple before returning his attention back to the stove. You pulled yourself up to sit on the counter and watch him cook.

“You look good without one. I could get used to this view,” You teased. Flashing an easy grin over his shoulder, he laughed. In that moment, you marveled at just how easy it was to be with him. Then your stomach tightened at the idea of things being tense or awkward after the warmth of this morning faded. 

However, Roger didn’t know how to do tense. He knew how to walk into the kitchen where you were making tea in your sweats and pinch your butt as a greeting on his way to his bedroom, hollering over his shoulder asking how your day was. He knew your favorite takeout places and your coffee order and he spoiled you with them often. And you knew him better than you thought too. Surprising him with a car magazine because you saw it while grocery shopping or picking up his favorite brand of honey (the man was specific about his tea). 

After a few weeks of nights (and days) spent in Roger’s bed, you fell asleep in your own room while he was out at a gig. You didn’t want to seem clingy and sleep in his room so you slept in your own bed. You woke when you heard the door open and listened as he walked to his bedroom. After a moment of silence, the footsteps came to outside your door. There wasn’t any hesitation as he opened the door and you heard the thud of his shoes hitting the ground from where he threw them. His weight tipped the bed as he scooted closer to you and wrapped an arm tight around your waist. “What’re you doing so far away?” He mumbled against your hair, before nuzzling your neck. You slept in his bed after that. 

Things changed piece by piece. One waited for the other to come home for dinner. Nights were spent out together or spent in snuggled up on the couch. Which is why no one was surprised when Roger had the flu a week after you had recovered from it. You pressed a hand to his clammy forehead and frowned. 

“You’re burning up, love.”

He pressed his head into your touch.

“I’ve got a gig,” He groaned. 

“I hate to break it to you, but puking on stage isn’t all that sexy.”

“No?”

“No,” You scrunched up your nose.

“Fuck.”

Getting ready in the morning had become much more enjoyable. Even if it was harder to get out of bed once Roger got his hands on you every morning. Still, you loved the easiness of doing your hair for the day while he showered, singing quietly to himself. He’d inevitably fog up the mirror, but when he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a warm kiss to your neck, it was easy to forgive. 

As fast and as hard as the two of you were falling for each other, not every day was paradise. Roger was relatively new to the one-woman lifestyle and he often struggled with turning down the female attention that he received. He never let it go far, but still he smiled at them as they cooed over him post-gig. You sat with Aly, watching over your drink as another blonde in a short skirt sidled up to Roger and bat her eyelashes at him. He smiled at her and nodded as she talked a mile a minute. You watched with narrowed eyes as her hand slid from friendly on his shoulder to dangerously low on his waist. With a huff, you stood and pushed your way into the throng of women. Roger grinned at you once he caught sight of you, but after seeing your facial expression he looked more guilty than excited. 

“Hello, love” He greeted. You slid under his arm and nestled yourself against his side in greeting. You stayed there throughout the night as the crowd faded. The two of you were quiet until you walked into the apartment. 

“Certainly marked your territory tonight, didn’t ya?” He asked casually, tossing his keys onto the counter. You frowned. 

“I wouldn’t have to ‘mark my territory’ if you weren’t such a flirt,” You countered. Roger rolled his eyes. 

“We’re supposed to be friendly with the fans, how do you think we sell albums?”

“With good music?”

“You know what I meant,” Roger glared.

“You heard what I said.”

Roger waved a dismissive hand in the air and went to his bedroom, shutting the door soundly behind him. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and fumed in the entry way for a moment longer. Of course the man that you’d fallen in love with had to be irresistibly charming to the entire population. Continuing to mutter snide comments under your breath, you paced into the kitchen. Deciding to put the kettle on to settle you, you turned to the sink and found it full of dishes. Dishes that Roger was supposed to have done two days ago. 

Roger was lying on his bed, arms crossed and lips pouted, when you burst into his room, armed with a cereal bowl and ceramic mug. 

“Roger Taylor, if you can’t be a good boyfriend, then you better be a good roommate and do your damn dishes!” You yelled. 

“That’s your mug!” He argued.

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?”

“You and I happened because we got drunk at a bar and went home together. How do I know that won’t happen with someone else?” Your voice broke on the last word and you found yourself surprised at the tears blurring your vision. You could feel your face burning as Roger stared, wide-eyed, at you. 

“Is that what you really think?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “You really think that we ended up together because we got drunk and slept together?”

Your chest tightened at the hurt in his voice, but this conversation needed to be had. You nodded. 

Roger shoved a hand through his hair, shaking his head. 

“There aren’t enough words in this world for me to describe how much I love you. How much I loved you before we slept together,” He murmured. Closing the distance between you, he brushed a tear off your cheek with his thumb. He pressed his lips softly to your forehead and cradled your cheeks in his hands. As he stared into your eyes, you wondered if he had ever looks so serious in his whole life. 

“I love the way that you always offer me a bite of whatever you’re eating. Even that very first night that you moved in here and I’m pretty sure you hated me, you offered me a bite of your burnt toast. I love the way you snore,” You opened your mouth but Roger continued with a laugh, “and don’t say that you don’t. Because you do. I love when you sing along to our songs and how you’ve never once complained when the boys take over the apartment. I love that I can make you laugh like no one else and the way you shove your glasses up your nose when you read. I love the way you say my name: when we’re on the phone, when I get home for the day, when I first get inside you. Even when you’re bloody angry, I love the way you say my name.”

You both laughed then, your foreheads touching. Your bodies molded together and you pressed your head to his chest as his arms wrapped around you tightly.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you know that?” You mumbled against his shirt. He squeezed you and let out a breath. 

“Best roommate ever?”

You laughed.

“Best roommate ever.”


End file.
